more stars than in the heavens

not in our stars, but in ourselves

plea to a cold and uncaring universe

Actual photo of yours truly asking Grantland to hire me

Actual photo of yours truly asking Grantland to hire me

Hi Universe —

I know you’re busy and all, what with the expanding (and eventually contracting, or whatever it is, thus destroying whatever remains of us all), but I wanted to ask a special favor.  Can you tell whoever’s running Grantland that I want to write for them?  Wesley Morris left, and Rembert Browne has left too, and even though they have plenty of talented writers still on their staff (or however it works with these internet publication dealios), it seems to me that there’s room for another cultural critic (for lack of a better term).  Despite what they may see on this blog, I can write when I really need to.

In case they ask, here are my areas of not-expertise:

  • Movies, especially old ones (origins of cinema to the start of WWII, please), but I promise to go see things that come out during my lifetime once in a while
  • Old Hollywood apocrypha
  • So-called classical music, up to a point
  • Nabokov, and therefore the Russian Revolution’s effect on Europe, an outsider’s view of America, and kickass prose 101
  • Beyoncé studies
  • Does anyone care about ballet except for dusty old white people?  If not, never mind.
  • How the Production Code ruined feminism for at least 100 years, no joke
  • Serial killers
  • Especially Hannibal Lecter, but shhh

And for novelty, please let them know that they could call on me for an entirely uninformed spectator’s opinion of what I like to call Sportsball – meaning any sport you can name, because I won’t know anything about it, and what could be funnier than a column about which sports players have the best butts.  Uhhh….

Anyway, Universe, I bet you’ll tell me that I should pursue this seriously if I’m serious about it.  Psh.  You and your dumb advice.  Well, thanks anyway.


EDIT AT A LATER DATE: Okay, well, it looks like Grantland is getting rid of…like…everyone.  And maybe the whole Hollywood Prospectus section.  So…uh…A.V. Club?


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This entry was posted on October 19, 2015 by and tagged .
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